


Never Have I Ever

by youraveragemushroom



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, Birthday Cake, Birthday Fluff, Chat Noir/Ladybug Fluff, F/M, First Kiss, Identity Reveal, Light Angst, Minor Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Miraculous Ladybug Love Square, Never Have I Ever, Party Games, adrien loves the princess diaries its canon now, and anime, idk what else to tag lemme know if I missed anything?, slumber party, so much fluff to make up for it tho, the squad said fuck Gabriel agreste lives and so do I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29446080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youraveragemushroom/pseuds/youraveragemushroom
Summary: “It was Chat Noir,” she exhaled all at once. There was a moment of pure silence, before the room erupted once more.“Chat Noir?!”“What the fuck, Marinette?!”“Wait—”“What do you mean, Chat Noir?”“Like, the superhero Chat Noir?”“Tight black leather, notorious flirt, Chat Noir?”“Chat Noir, who's Ladybug’s partner Chat Noir?”--Or, Marinette accidentally reveals that Chat Noir is her first kiss, and Adrien is very confused.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 50
Kudos: 537





	Never Have I Ever

**Author's Note:**

> thank you again to [cal_loween_time](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cal_loween_time/pseuds/cal_loween_time) for texting me about the idea of marinette revealing she kissed Chat and then consequently getting me so obsessed w the idea that this was born :,) enjoy!
> 
> (this is also v unbetad so like yeah sorry lol)

If there was one good thing about Gabriel Agreste’s perpetual absence in his son’s life, it gave him all the pity points he needed to pull off schemes like this.

“Please?” Adrien begged, pulling out the puppy dog eyes he’d perfected for years. Say what you will about the neglected life of the child model—it’s given him the range that most adult actors would kill for.

“For the last time,” Nathalie huffed, finally looking up from her tablet, “I cannot allow you to have a _slumber party_ while your father is away. If he found out you threw any kind of party—much less one that involved inviting your _entire_ class into his home while he was not here—”

“But it’s the only thing I’ve asked for, Nathalie!” the blonde exclaimed. “For my 16th birthday! That’s a milestone, if you’re not aware. I’ve seen all the Hollywood movies—it’s a big deal!”

“Adrien—”

“I know it can’t be like the one in that film we watched last week—”

“—I knew I would regret letting you watch The Princess Diaries movies—”

“—but what about just a few people?” Adrien finished, actually clasping hands and dropping to his knees. A life on stage and on the covers of magazines have only taught him how to milk the dramatics. Blame his father.

Nathalie sighed, squinting at him over her desk. “Define _a few_.”

“More than one!” Adrien shot back, scrambling to his feet. “Not the entire class, but at least ten!”

Nathalie scoffed at that, rolling her eyes. “One,” she relented.

Adrien pouted. “Eight?”

“Two.”

“Five, and they stay the night!”

“Three, and everyone leaves before ten.”

“Four, including me, and they leave in the morning!”

“Deal!” Nathalie exclaimed, caught up in Adrien’s little game. Realizing that she’d let the fifteen year old rile her up, she straightened in her chair, turning back to her tablet. “Three of your friends, and your father does not hear a word.”

“Deal!” Adrien agreed, beaming. This would be the part where they would vigorously shake on it, according to the movies Adrien had seen. However, he knew not to push his luck with his father’s assistant. With a quick nod, the teenager left, grabbing his bag on the way out. He practically skipped all the way to school, ecstatic to tell Nino to clear his weekend.

~.~

Despite there being no sign of akuma attacks all week, Ladybug insisted they still continue nightly patrols _just in case_.

“Why don’t we take a quick break, my lady?” Chat Noir suggested, landing next to her on the roof of a nondescript Parisian building.

Ladybug raised a brow, but retracted her yo-yo nonetheless. “Sure thing, kitty. Long day?”

Chat shrugged, plopping down to sit on the ledge. “You could say that…”

Ladybug followed suit, a mirror at his left. “Anything you’d like to talk about? Sans personal details, of course.”

The black cat chuckled humorlessly, thinking about how easy it would be to tell her that he hates being a child model and a full time student—knowing how easy it would be for her to guess his alter ego with just the highlights of his busy day.

“Got called into work last minute,” he decides on, leaning back on his hands. “I hate it, and I thought I wouldn’t have to go in until at least next week. Kinda just ruined my day, is all.”

Ladybug hummed. “I’m sorry, chaton. I get it though—some days I just wanna throw my apron in a rude customer’s face and tell them to make their own croissants.”

Chat’s ears twitched at the new information. “Ooh, does the illustrious Ladybug work a day job at a patisserie? Serving the people in a mask and an apron—truly the most talented girl in Paris!”

Ladybug scoffed, shoving her partner roughly. “Shut up, Chat. This is what I get for trying to sympathize with you. Suffer in silence, for all I care!”

Chat chuckled, Ladybug joining in quickly. “No, no,” he said, tugging on her elbow. “Please! Regale me with all your worst customer nightmares!”

Ladybug shook her head, poking him in the nose. “You’ll have to earn them, chaton. And besides, we were talking about you, first. Tell me about your day, kitty.”

Chat paused. If he talked about spraining his ankle during rehearsal, or how his eyes were still burning from the accidental spritz of hairspray, or how his face hurt from having to stay frozen in very specific expressions for hours on end, there’s no way his partner wouldn’t know who he was. There were only so many blonde, teenaged, part-time models who lived in Paris and went to high school full time. Not to mention, he knew Ladybug knew of Adrien Agreste. He’s heard her gush about her father’s designs on more than one occasion. No doubt would she also be aware of his prodigal son—picture perfect on paper, and definitely not her rakish sidekick.

“I’m just glad it’s almost over,” is what he decides to go with, collapsing on the rooftop. Legs dangling precariously off the building’s edge, the superhero was now laying on his back with a perfect view of what little stars he could see over Paris. In the corner of his vision, he could just make out his lady’s small frown, before she too laid down beside him.

“I’m here if you need me, Chat,” she said, reaching to grab his hand. She held it in hers, squeezing slowly but steadily, as if he needed a reminder that he wasn’t alone. Maybe he did, because he found himself squeezing back just as tightly.

“Thanks, buginette,” is all he said, and for a moment the silence and the stars were all the conversation they needed.

They were interrupted not by an akuma, but by the shrill beeping of Ladybug’s yo-yo.

“What’s that?” Chat asked, watching as she silenced it with a tap. “Is that a new upgrade Plagg’s been holding out on me?”

Ladybug chuckled, tucking her device back to her hip. “No, silly kitty. I asked Tikki to connect my phone to my yo-yo so I can respond to texts and voice calls when we’re transformed, to avoid suspicion.”

Chat gasped, sitting up and pulling out his baton. “What?! Show me!”

Ladybug chuckled, eyeing him from where she was still laying flat. “I can’t show you, dummy. Ask Plagg, your kwami, when you’re de-transformed. You better not be on your phone during patrols afterwards, though.”

Chat wiggled his eyebrows at her, smirking. “Oh yeah? Well what about you, bugaboo? Who’s blowing up your yo-yo at this hour?”

Ladybug scoffed, smiling at the black-clad superhero. “If you must know, it’s midnight, which means it’s officially my friend’s birthday. I set an alarm so I wouldn’t forget to text him at midnight.”

Chat’s smile dimmed, though he tried not to let it show. “Oh. That’s...really nice of you, my lady. He must be lucky.”

Whether it was because they have a special bond through their kwamis, or because they’d known each other for over a year now, or because you couldn’t be partners and not be as close as they were in their line of work, Ladybug could see right through his facade. So much for all those years being a model.

“What’s wrong, kitty?” she asked, sitting up. They were shoulder to shoulder, though Chat kept his face downturned. He twirled his batton in his lap, and if his belt were really a tail it would be flicking back and forth anxiously.

“Nothing, my lady,” he reassured, turning back to her with his second attempt at a grin.

Ladybug frowned, covering his mouth with her hand. “Don’t give me those fake smiles. Tell me what’s wrong, chaton. And don’t lie to me—I’ll know, you know.”

Chat hesitated, pursing his lips under her warm hand. Reaching up, he moved her hand by the wrist, setting it against their knees. 

“It’s just,” he started, looking away awkwardly, “I wish I knew you in real life. On the other side of the mask.”

Ladybug remained silent, waiting for her companion to elaborate. “It just sucks,” he exclaimed, “that I can’t text you memes, or send you gifts, or—or wish you a happy birthday at midnight! I just...wish we could be friends like normal, sometimes.”

Beside him, Ladybug sighed, wriggling her hand out his grip to hold his hand again. “Chaton…”

“I know,” he muttered, tossing her a sad smile. It was realer than the ones he’d attempted before, but lackluster in comparison to his regular bright grins. “I love being your partner, though. Wouldn’t give it up for all the luck in the world.”

Ladybug furrowed her eyebrows, squeezing his hand. “One day. One day, chaton, I’ll make up for all the days I couldn’t be there for you. Once Hawkmoth is defeated, once Paris is safe. I’ll take you out for icecream, and we can go to the movies, and do all the fun things normal friends do. I promise you that, Chat Noir.” 

Any somberness Chat had been feeling evaporated, replaced with a buoyant elation that could only be attributed to his polka-dotted partner. With little warning, the blonde boy wrapped his arms around his raven-haired partner, pulling her into the warmest hug he could muster. She was chuckling in his arms, but he knew she understood what he was trying to convey. Ladybug may not know just how truly alone he felt sometimes, but she really was the best person he knew, and times like these always reminded him just how grateful he was to be her partner.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Chat warned lightheartedly, pulling back. Hands on her shoulders, he shook her lightly, brightening even more at her giggles. “You owe me all the birthdays, and weekends, and movie nights, and sleepovers, and—”

“Fine!” she interrupted, fake-exasperated. “Let’s just start with the birthdays and go from there, kitty. When’s yours, so I can plan to get you some high quality catnip?”

Chat paused, head tilting. “You said it passed midnight, right?”

Ladybug raised an eyebrow, hands lightly resting on his wrists. “Yeah? It’s the sixteenth, why?”

Chat smiled sheepishly at that. “Uh, it’s now, I guess.”

Ladybug paused for a moment, before she stood up quickly. “It’s your birthday?!”

Chat chuckled awkwardly, following suit. “Hehe, yeah? I turn sixteen today.”

And it may have been more information than they usually share, but Ladybug didn’t seem to care. “I can’t believe today’s your birthday and I didn’t even know!” she exclaimed, now pacing in front of him. “It’s your sixteenth birthday and I would’ve just not known! I would’ve gone my entire day not knowing and not wishing you and—”

“My lady,” Chat interrupted, tugging her to a halt. “It’s alright! It’s not a big dea—”

“Screw that!” Ladybug exclaimed, now shaking Chat by the shoulders. “Happy sixteenth birthday, Chat Noir! I refuse to not celebrate this with you, so meet me at the Tour Eiffel in twenty minutes. Trust me, I’ll be right back!”

And with that, she threw her yo-yo in the opposite direction and dropped off into the night. She was a streak of red and black, occasionally caught by the moon’s spotlight, but even that disappeared in a few seconds.

Adrien dropped his transformation once she was out of sight, knowing Plagg would give him grief if he didn’t let him snack on some cheese before what seemed to be a longer night than he expected. Slipping the smelly cheese out of his pocket, he sighed dreamily at the stars while his kwami ate.

“I can’t wait to meet her for real, Plagg,” Adrien exhaled, smiling wide. “She’s...ugh she’s amazing.”

“Sure, pal,” the cantankerous cat replied, burping rudely. Even his kwami’s snarky demeanor couldn’t put a damper on his mood. Soon enough, they had transformed again, and Chat began fidgeting with his baton. A deep breath, and he launched off the rooftop in the direction of their rendez-vous point.

“By the way,” Chat Noir called into the wind, addressing his kwami, “you’re connecting my phone to my baton once we get back home. I wanna show Ladybug this really cool cosplayer on TikTok!” And although he couldn’t hear Plagg’s nasally objection, he could certainly picture the kwami rolling his eyes.

Ladybug beat him to their usual spot on the metal structure, a white box held tightly in her hands. Her eyes lit up when she spotted him.

“There you are, you stray,” she called fondly, taking a seat against the pillar behind her. “I thought you finally got lost in the city.”

“Took a few stops to scavenge through trash cans,” he joked, plopping down in front of her. “Managed to find my way back to you, however, my lady.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes, setting the box down in between them. “Enough flirting with me, Chat. Here. I know it’s very last-minute, and you don’t have to like it, but I just wanted to get you something from me today. I...I hope you like it.”

Chat quirked a brow, turning his gaze to the white, paper box between them. Reaching out, he used one of his claws to undo the one strip of tape that held the lid down. Carefully, he opened the lid to reveal a frosted, pink cake.

“If I’d known I’d be giving it to you, I’d have frosted it in the neon-est green,” Ladybug joked, awkwardly twirling her fingers. She absently pulled out a generic black candle, placing it in the middle of the cake. “I didn’t even ask if you have any allergies, crap! Uh, it’s vanilla buttercream, with strawberries in the middle? It’s a standard white cake mix, so, like, with eggs and dairy, and stuff—”

“Ladybug,” Chat choked out, looking up from the cake, embarrassingly close to tears. “I... _thank you_.”

Ladybug only smiled, shifting the cake out from between them, before tugging her partner into a bone-crushing hug. “Happy birthday, chaton. If I’d have known beforehand, I would’ve made you the best cake you’ll have ever tasted, in your favorite flavor. I’ll get it right next time, though.”

Chat chuckled wetly, only holding onto her tighter. Whether or not she could feel the dampness on her shoulder through her suit, she held onto the boy wordlessly, and let him appreciate his best friend.

“Thank you, Ladybug,” he sighed into her shoulder. “You don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

Ladybug scoffed, pulling away from his embrace much too early for his comfort. “Don’t thank me until you’ve tried it,” she asserted, pulling out a lighter. She lit the sole candle, holding the cake up between them. “Go on, birthday boy. Make a wish?”

The blush that rose into bloom across Chat’s face was the least of his problems. He could feel his heart thumping loud enough to be heard over the wind. His claws twitched, wanting to hold onto something— _hold onto her_ —substantial. He felt himself falling, reaching terminal velocity. The feeling of falling wasn’t new, but he didn’t know it could still rise in tempo. His love for Ladybug...he thought the last two years had cemented the familiar weight of its presence in his chest. But looking into her blue eyes, watching the warmth of the lone candle flicker in them, knowing that she was quite possibly if not surely the best thing to have ever happened to him...

Chat Noir blew out the candle, giggling at Ladybug’s off-key singing. The two teenage superheroes dug into the three layered cake fingers first, each making sure to paint each other’s costumes with strawberries and cream alike. Hooking their arms at the elbow, the two simultaneously stuffed their faces with, laughing at the absolute mess of their faces.

Chat knew he had school in the morning, and another long night of sleepover shenanigans he’d been looking forward to all week—but sitting atop the Eiffel Tower, Ladybug next to him, the most delicious cake he’d ever tasted in his lap…

It was so worth it.

By the time Adrien got back, he’d decided he would just not go back to bed, seeing as the sun was going to start rising over the Seine in an hour. He left Plagg alone with a whole wheel of Camembert, tucking the leftover cake into his personal mini-fridge. Before stepping into the shower, Adrien checked his phone where he left it charging during his patrol. 

There were a few texts from Nino about things he wanted to do that night, or snacks Adrien hadn’t ever tried before that he wanted to bring. Chloe had sent a few as well, telling Adrien she was taking him out on Sunday for a late birthday outing, just the two of them, giving him no say in the matter. Situated at the very top, however, sent around what was apparently one a.m. according to his phone clock, was a single text from Marinette—wishing him a very happy birthday, with all the cake and pastry emojis the emoji keyboard could offer. At the sight of them, the blonde boy couldn’t help but remember his night with his partner. 

Smiling wide enough to pull his facial muscles, Adrien sauntered into his ensuite bathroom, ready to keep the happy momentum of his day.

~.~

School was normal, for the most part. The main highlight, however, had to be Nino and Alya bursting into song when he walked into the classroom, first thing in the morning. Marinette followed behind them at a much lower volume, carrying a familiar white box in her arms.

It felt like deja vu, having to open another white cake box again. Though it was the second cake he was gifted today by a good friend of his, Adrien felt the same familiar prickling of his eyes again. He managed to hold them back this time, though he did give all three of them the biggest hugs. Nino and Alya laughed at his dramatics, and Marinette squeaked when he thanked her profusely, but she hugged him back just the same.

Madame Bustier, upon Adrien explaining that he had a full cake and nowhere to store it for the rest of the day, allowed class to be delayed for a half an hour as everyone took a slice of the delicious chocolate—“can you believe we, a _patisserie_ , ran out of _vanilla_ ”—cake. And the day continued just as smoothly after that. Chloe was as pleasant as she could be, all his friends wished him when they got the chance, and none of their teachers gave them homework for the weekend (which may have been a happy coincidence, but he also noticed Marinette, class president, and Chloe, mayor’s daughter, sending each other subtle nods).

Before he knew it, he and Nino were heading back to the mansion, where the girls had planned to meet them after getting their sleepover essentials from home. Nino, who had come to school prepared with his overnight duffle and school bag, was gesturing animatedly to his friend, listing all the things he had prepared for his best bro’s sixteenth birthday bash.

“And I know the last few years were kinda rough,” Nino said, face turning up at the memories, “what with me going all akuma on everyone that first year, and then your dad going into lockdown mode as a result last year. But! This year is gonna make up for all your shitty birthdays, bro! I gotchu.”

Adrien grinned, leading the other boy past the gates and the large doors and the grand staircase to his room. 

Nino chucked his bags onto one of Adrien’s plush couches, sinking into another one. “Ugh!” he groaned. “I forget how comfy your room is. Sucks we can’t hang here more often.”

Adrien sighed, nodding, throwing his bag in his closet. “Yeah. I wish my dad were less…”

“Stick-up-his-butt-y?” Nino offered.

The blonde chuckled, shaking his head. “Sure, let’s go with that. I’m sure he’d love that adjective.”

Nino shrugged, smirking. “What can I say? I just call ‘em like I see ‘em.” The girls arrived a little while later, and the party ensued. And while there was no mattress surfing or dance party, they did have a lot of fun. 

The night began with Nino laying out all the sugary snacks and drinks Adrien had never been able to have before, thanks to his father’s strict diet and his model regimen. All four of them shared the smorgasbord of sweets and soda, quickly getting hyped up on all the sugar. Then it was Alya’s turn, who somehow connected her phone to the wireless speakers in Adrien’s room, blasting the Top 20s loud enough that he was sure Nathalie would give him an earful for tomorrow. He didn’t see who exactly pulled him onto his feet, but a second later all four of them were dancing wildly to a pop song he was sure he’d heard on set before, laughing maniacally.

They paused for pizza, which gave Marinette enough time to suggest they get changed into their pajamas and give Adrien their presents. Ten minutes later, all of them, dressed in comfy sleep clothes, gathered in a circle on Adrien’s shaggy carpet.

“Me first!” Nino exclaimed, tugging a long, wrapped rectangular object from behind his back. “You’re gonna love this, dude.” Alya, who was filming the entire ordeal, giggled, though Marinette and Adrien looked at the mysteriously soft present with intrigue.

“Should I be worried?” the blonde asked, tearing the paper away. The wrapping paper dropped to reveal a lifesize, anime body pillow of a character from an anime he gushed over to Nino months ago. Adrien burst into laughter, Nino and the others joining in, before he tackled his friend with a hug.

“It’s Usui, from that anime you made me watch!” Nino explained, poking his friend. “He’s, like, the anime version of you. Blonde hair, green eyes. Get it?”

Adrien laughed even harder, turning over his new body pillow to hold it next to his face. “Jokes on you, Nino. He’s hot, and I’m hot—so, really, I’m the winner here!”

All of them howled at that, Nino rolling his eyes. “Of course you’d say that, you narcissist! Ugh, happy birthday, you weeb.”

“Thanks, bro,” Adrien replied sincerely, letting the extent of his emotions show on his face. “I can’t believe you actually watched it, and remembered from, like, half a year ago. I’m gonna sleep with this every night, just you watch.”

Nino chuckled. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, turning to Alya to take her phone from her. “Your turn, babe. I’ll film.”

Alya smirked, turning to grab her present. When she returned with a familiarly soft, rectangular package, the remaining three laughed.

“What can I say!” she merely exclaimed over their laughter. “My boyfriend and I have good ideas.”

“Great minds, babe,” Nino agreed, kissing her cheek.

Adrien rolled his eyes playfully, tearing the wrapper. At the familiar sight of black polka-dots on red, he blushed furiously, eyes widening. While he could laugh off owning an anime body pillow, he certainly couldn’t fend off the blood rushing to his face and neck at the sight of his superhero partner printed on a life size body pillow.

“To feed your Ladybug obsession,” Alya explained, raising her voice over Nino’s loud laughter. “From one Ladybug superfan to another! Happy birthday, Adrien.”

Adrien looked up, smiling a lot more shyly than he had before. “Uh, th-thanks, Alya—”

“O-M-G, babe,” Nino interrupted, pointing at Marinette. “Look! Marinette matches!”

At the sound of her name the girl’s gaze snapped up. She was wearing just as red a blush as Adrien, though her expression was almost nauseous. 

“Wh-What?!” she shouted, looking panicked.

Alya giggled, gesturing to her outfit. “He means you’re in your Chat Noir pjs, and that’s a Ladybug body pillow, so you match? You okay, girl?”

“Y-yeah! Yes! I am toooootally fine! Haha, you’re right—I do match, haha!” Marinette exclaimed, blinking quickly and waving her arms awkwardly. 

Adrien decided to take pity on her, tossing the pillow onto his bed, out of sight for more tormenting. “That’s enough of making-fun-of-my-obsessions for tonight,” he said jokingly, silently urging the rest of them to follow his suit at changing the subject. “Unless you also have a body pillow for me, Marinette?”

The raven-haired girl chuckled nervously, though she seemed much more calm now that the pillow was gone. “No, unfortunately. You’re gonna have to settle for a little less extravagance from me, sorry.”

She punctuated her statement with a neatly wrapped package, not in the shape of a body pillow. It was a box, small enough to nestle in his lap, but big enough that he couldn’t hold it in one hand. Adrien jokingly held it up to his ear, shaking it lightly.

“Hmm,” he teased, “I don’t know, Marinette. You could hide a lot of extravagant things in a box this size.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, poking his shoulder. “Just open the present, nerd.”

Maybe it was lingering feelings from the Ladybug body pillow, or the fact that Marinette had never called him anything other than his name before, but the blush seemed to be returning to Adrien in full force. He focused on opening Marinette’s present, feeling the weight of her gaze on him heavier than he had all night.

Opening the box, the first item to catch his eye was the obscene amount of packing tissue. Various shades of pink—his favorite color, though not many people knew that—assaulted his vision, and he had to literally dig his way into the folds before he found the actual present. He felt the soft fabric, before he was tugging out a pair of red and black polka-dotted socks.

“I guess Alya and I also had the same thought, sorta,” Marinette chuckled nervously. “Thought you might enjoy having Ladybug-print fuzzy socks for the winter.”

“These are wonderful, Marinette!” Adrien exclaimed, pulling her into a side hug. “I love them, so much!”

Marinette giggled nervously, wrapping an arm around his waist lightly. “I’m glad. I’ve never made socks before, so it took me a little longer than I thought, and I wasn’t sure I’d finish them on time, but I’m glad I did.”

Adrien froze, pulling away with wide eyes. “You...you made them by hand?”

Marinette nodded, grinning with pride. “Yeah! I’ve been knitting for years now. All I’d done before were simple stuff, like scarves and the occasional hat. Socks are definitely harder, though.”

Adrien stared at her, a little—a lot—in awe. “You’re so awesome, Marinette!” he exclaimed, tugging off his plain white socks to replace them with hers. “I don’t know how you can do so many things, like—you can bake, and knit, and sew, and draw, and you’re good at math?! You really are amazing, Marinette!”

The girl blushed, rivaling the redness Adrien could feel creeping up his face as he realized how blatant his gushing had been. Hopefully he hadn’t made things awkward for her.

“Th-there’s more,” Marinette stuttered, gesturing to the box. “I, uh, had enough time to make you a matching scarf.”

Adrien tore apart the tissue, finding an equally soft and equally beautiful polka-dotted scarf at the bottom of the box. He wrapped the material around his neck despite not being cold and also being indoors. He could feel the craftsmanship that went into Marinette’s presents. He told himself he wouldn’t cry again today, but his eyes were suspiciously burning.

Unable to express his thanks verbally, Adrien found himself, once again, throwing his arms around his friend and hoping she would understand the enormity of his emotions. He could feel Marinette freeze in his embrace, but just before he let go, he felt her arms wrap just as tightly around his waist, matching his fervor. She didn’t let go, even when the hug turned out to be a lot longer than a normal hug should’ve been. Instead, he felt two other pairs of arms join, and soon Nino was tugging them all into a wild group hug that ended with all four of them collapsed on the fluffy carpet.

“Thanks, you guys,” Adrien whispered once they all broke apart. They were all laying flat on their backs on the carpet, still in a circle, staring at Adrien’s tall ceiling. “This has been the absolute best birthday ever. You guys...I love you guys.”

There was a long moment of silence, in which Adrien worried he said too much or made things awkward, before Nino climbed over the others and toppled over his friend, ensnaring him in a painful bear hug.

“Bro,” he said, tearily, “you can’t say shit like that and make me cry! I love you too, dude. And this is only the beginning of birthday bashes, my homie. Onwards and upwards, my friend!”

“Yeah, Adrien,” Alya said, tugging her boyfriend off so the blonde could breathe again. “We love you too. And we’re gonna fight your dad when he gets back so he’s not as stick-up-his-butt-y anymore.”

“Mh-hm,” Marinette agreed, offering him a hand. “Ride or die, nerd. You’re stuck with us!”

Adrien laughed at that, accepting the hand and letting himself be pulled up. “I’d pay to watch you beat up my dad,” he said to Marinette, elbowing her. “Think you can take him on, shorty?”

Marinette huffed, exuding enough energy to make her five foot six frame loom much taller. “He’s a crotchety old man who works a glorified desk job—I think I can take him.” They all laugh at that, ignoring Marinette’s pout. 

The next course of the night involved Adrien forcing his friends to watch Studio Ghibli movies and play stereotypical slumber party games because _“you’re already sixteen years behind, Adrien! It’s our duty to catch you up!”_

The first was the classic Truth or Dare, which Marinette quickly vetoed due to the couple’s incessant shenanigans.

“Dare!” Nino yelled, for the fourth time in a row.

“Hmmm,” Alya hummed faux-thoughtfully, ignoring the other two’s exasperated groaning. “I wonder what I should make you do…”

“Can we change the game?” Marinette grumbled, throwing popcorn at the two who were giddily smiling. 

“I agree,” Adrien chimed in, raising a hand.

“I dare you to kiss the prettiest person in the room!” Alya exclaimed, smirking. The two had spent the entirety of the game finding new ways to give each other a smooch, which had been entertaining to Adrien and Marinette for all of one round, before growing old quickly.

“Hmmm,” Nino pretended to think, rubbing his chin mischievously. “Now that’s a dilemma…”

Everyone was surprised when the boy lunged for Adrien, giving him the largest smack on his cheek, devolving everyone into laughter. Alya pretended to give her boyfriend the silent treatment for all of two minutes before she accepted her apology in the form of a kiss and a couple IOUs.

But Adrien and Marinette strongly vetoed continuing the game, switching it in favor of a non-alcoholic version of Never Have I Ever.

“So,” Adrien started, looking at the contents of his cup, “normally people play this with alcohol.”

Marinette nodded, swirling her concoction with a straw. “Yep! I forced Nino to keep it PG tonight, though, since we didn’t want to get you into any more trouble with your dad.”

Adrien smiled gratefully at her. “Thanks, Marinette. Yeah, best to leave the wilder stuff for when I’ve finally moved out, and all.”

Marinette grinned back, tapping her plastic cup to his. “Don’t worry. Ninos special mix of all the crappy soda he could find at the Carrefour down the street will be just as disgusting as any Four Loko he would’ve brought if I let him.”

Adrien chuckled, making a mental note to look up what exactly Four Loko was. 

“Alright,” Nino announced, turning back to the other three situated on Adrien’s large bed. “Who’s going first?”

“Birthday boy?” Alya suggested, raising her cup in Adrien’s direction.

Adrien frowned, tapping his finger against the rim of his solo cup. “Uh, how about one of you guys start us off? Just so I know how this works.”

“Sure, I’ll go,” Marinette offered, nudging him lightly with her shoulder. “Never have I ever…”

The raven-haired girl trailed off, eyeing Alya playfully from across the circle. “...dedicated an entire weekend to photoshopping LB masks on all the kids at our school to try and figure out if they’re secretly a superhero,” she finished, smirking at the other girl, who was rolling her eyes.

“Here we go,” Nino sighed, giving Adrien a what-are-we-gonna-do-with-these-two kind of look.

“You laugh it up now, Mari,” Alya threatened, taking a gulp of the disgusting mix of random sodas in her cup. “But mark my words, you will regret starting this.”

Marinette chuckled darkly, raising her brows at her friend. Adrien turned to Alya, gesturing to her cup. “So,” he surmised, “you take a drink if you’ve done the thing the person says?”

Alya nodded, still grimacing. “Ugh, yeah. The alcohol usually makes the taste worth it, but we’re not so lucky tonight.”

Adrien hummed, looking at the weird murky green liquid in his cup. “Um, does it count if one were to cut out a little mask and put it on all the portraits in the yearbook? I’m, uh, not the best with photoshop, but...”

At the admission, three heads whipped to stare at him. Nino and Alya burst into laughter, Marinette looking halfway between shock and mortified. He felt bad, knowing she didn’t probably mean to out him like that. He shrugged at her, taking a generous sip from his cup, before gagging at the taste.

“This is gold!” Nino cackled, spurring Alya to fall over with laughter. 

“It’s official,” Alya announced between giggles. “Babe, I’m replacing you with Adrien as my investigation partner. He gets it.”

Nino shrugged. “As long as I can stay the boyfriend, have fun stalking Paris’ favorite superhero, babe.” Adrien laughed, bumping fists with Alya. 

“Okay, Nino’s turn,” Marinette interrupted, effectively ending the tangent.

Nino took the bait, humming thoughtfully. “Never have I ever...pulled an all-nighter crying over anime!”

Adrien pouted, ignoring Nino’s snickering and taking another sip of the disgusting drink. “Not cool, bro.”

He almost missed Marinette taking a surreptitious sip from her own cup, but she coughed at the acrid taste, giving her away. Adrien turned to her, eyes wide.

“Y-you watch anime?” he asked, voice pitched awkwardly high.

Marinette blushed, smirking. “Yeah. Stayed up all night with papa crying over Your Lie in April. Mama laughed at our puffy eyes the next morning but made us pancakes to make up for it.”

“I stopped watching it halfway when I found out it ended sadly,” Adrien confessed. “I learned my lesson after Clannad.”

Marinette nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I’ve heard it’s heartbreaking.”

“Oh good,” Alya interrupted. “Now there’s two of them.”

Marinette huffed indignantly, turning from Adrien with a pout aimed at the other girl. “I could say the same for you, stalker!”

Adrien frowned at that poking Marinette in the side. “Hey! I’m not a stalker. I just...really appreciate everything Ladybug does for the world! She's, like, the best…”

“I think you’ve gone from appreciation to lovesick a while ago, my dude,” Nino retorted, flicking a cheeto at his friend.

“Sh-shut up!” Adrien and Marinette exclaimed simultaneously, turning to stare at each other wide-eyed.

“My turn!” Alya shouted. “Never have I gone sixteen years without having my first kiss!”

The brunette smirked at her friend, who was serving an equally nasty pout. Until Marinette smirked back, setting her cup down definitively. Alya narrowed her eyes, waiting for her friend to take a sip and fall into whatever trap the spectacled girl had laid. It was when it became obvious that Marinette wasn’t going to take a sip that all hell broke loose.

“What the fuck, Marinette?!” Alya exclaimed, standing up suddenly. “When—how _—no, who was it?!_ ” 

And like a light switch, Marinette’s smirk dropped. Realizing Alya wouldn’t just let this go and that she’d backed herself into a corner, the other girl began to nervously laugh.

“O-oh,” she stuttered, looking away from all three of their curious faces. “You know—I told you! It was, um, that guy? At...that thing—” 

“Girl you know I know you’re bullshitting me,” Alya cut her off, scrambling across the circle to tackle the other girl. Marinette yelped, trying to fight off her friend, only to be assaulted by fingers poking at her side. Luckily for her, she seemed to be immune to Alya’s expert tickling.

“Ugh, I forgot you’re a freak who can’t be tickled,” the other girl relented, settling for shaking her friend by the shoulders instead. “But you’re not getting out of this, girl! _Who_ _was your first kiss?!_ ”

“Just some guy,” Marinette tried, shooting Nino and Adrien pleading looks. 

“Maybe we should move—”

Alya cut Adrien off with a vicious look, pointing a finger at him. “Stay outta this, blondie. Marinette knew about Nino _literally_ within the hour. This is personal!”

“Alya,” Marinette sighed.

“Marinette,” she retorted, her tone leaving no room for any further questions.

Marinette groaned, realizing she wasn’t going to get out of this. She levelled her friend with an uncharacteristically serious look, holding out her pinky between them.

“Fine. But you have to promise— _pinky promise_ —to not ask any follow up questions,” Marinette said.

Alya huffed, linking pinkies. “But—”

“And I won’t elaborate if you ask any, either,” she warned, looking to the boys too. “And you guys can’t tell anybody, either. We’re just going to forget I even said anything.”

“Sure,” Nino agreed, shooting her a thumbs up. Adrien smiled, miming locking his lips and throwing away the key. Alya grumbled about dramatics, but even she sat back and let Marinette have the floor.

The girl looked hesitant, eyes flitting. With one last look at Adrien— _were her eyes always that shade of blue_ —Marinette opened her mouth and said the last name he thought possible.

“ _It was Chat Noir,_ ” she exhaled all at once. There was a moment of pure silence, before the room erupted once more.

“Chat Noir?!”

“What the fuck, Marinette?!”

“Wait—”

“What do you mean, _Chat Noir_?”

“Like, the superhero Chat Noir?”

“Tight black leather, notorious flirt, Chat Noir?”

“Chat Noir, who's _Ladybug’s_ partner Chat Noir?”

“Well, I mean they aren’t _technically_ partners in _that_ sense, _really_ —”

“Still! I didn’t even know this was poss—!” 

“GUYS!” Marinette interjected. “No questions, remember? Let’s just move on.”

“Girl, if you don’t think I’m getting every last detail of this, you’re crazy!” Alya spluttered.

Nino nodded in agreement. “Yeah, bro! Like, this is a big deal?!”

“It really isn’t,” Marinette muttered.

“But—”

“Alya!” Marinette cut her off with a sharp look, some kind of communication passing between the girls telepathically. Alya sighed after a long pause, sitting back.

“Fine,” she agreed. “But this isn’t over.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Marinette waved off, shoving her friend out of her personal space.

They all rearranged themselves back to their original spots in the circle, but there was a charged silence now. Not wanting to dwell on Marinette’s admission—at least not while all his friends were still here and he couldn’t go bug Plagg where he was hiding in Adrien’s closet, with a whole wheel of stinky cheese—Adrien took an obnoxiously gulp of his drink.

“Uh, you’re supposed to take a sip if you’ve done the thing, bro,” Nino said. 

“Yeah,” Adrien retorted, nose scrunching. “I’ve now, uh, _officially_ gone sixteen years without having my first kiss.”

He said it nonchalantly, but between Alya’s cackling and Nino’s hard teasing, it was as if he’d admitted to something much more salacious. Adrien could only imagine the fallout of when they figured out his superhero secret identity. 

Marinette stayed out of the taunting, nudging him lightly with her elbow. He looked to her, to find her smiling softly.

 _Thank you_ , she mouthed, gesturing to the fact that their rowdy friends were now completely focused on him instead of her. 

Adrien returned her smile with a shrug. He definitely needed to talk to her later, if only to find out why she used _his alter ego_ to lie to her friends about something as silly as a first kiss. Because he was sure he’d remember kissing her—in or out of the suit. But every synapse he followed only lead to a dead end, as no memory of any kiss showed up. She probably blurted the first name she thought of, since she didn’t want to confess who it really was. 

Now Adrien was thinking about that. Who was Marinette so embarrassed of admitting to having kissed? Or, maybe she was trying to protect them from the wrath of the junior reporter. Having witnessed Alya at a hundred percent ferocity before, Adrien understood that line of thought. It still didn’t make sense why she’d chosen Paris’ notorious superhero instead of someone from their class, or literally anyone less conspicuous? 

“Okay!” Adrien exclaimed, laughing. “My turn. Uh, never have I ever—uh…drove to a different province for a video game!”

Nino scoffed, but took a gulp of his drink good-heartedly. “Oh, now it’s on, pretty boy!”

They continued the game, using the majority of their turns to target one or the other. More secrets were spilled—“I _knew_ you were the one that spilled grape juice on my assignment that day and not the cat!”—and confessions were made—“I still can’t believe you used to have a crush on _Marinette_ !” “ _Hey_!”—as the night wore on, until they were too tired to keep their eyes open for more than a few seconds at a time.

Spread across spare mattresses Adrien had pilfered from the unused rooms in the mansion, Adrien ended up squished between Nino—who snored like a bear in hibernation—and Marinette, who seemed oddly awake all of a sudden.

“Hey,” Adrien whispered, turning to face the girl. Marinette’s eyes flicked from where she was observing the ceiling to his soft stare, baby blues almost iridescent in the dark of the room. 

“Hey,” she whispered back, a soft smile gracing her features. There was something comforting in the fact that they were conversing in the dark, while their friends slept. It felt like the world had zeroed in on just them, just this girl. Adrien had only ever felt like that with one other person, before.

“Can I ask you a question?” the blonde asked.

Marinette paused, the gears in her brain almost visibly working. “Depends.”

“You don’t have to answer me if you don’t wanna, Marinette—I just want to ask it.”

“Shoot,” she replied, blinking slowly.

Adrien blinked back, even slower. “When did Chat Noir kiss you?”

Marinette paused, though this one was less contemplative. The moon was shining directly across her face, lighting her pale cheek. She wasn’t the slightest bit flustered as her gaze skirted across Adrien’s face, as if she was looking for something.

“What makes you think _he’s_ the one who kissed _me_?” she finally said, the smallest smirk pulling at her mouth. Although her tone was playful, the comfort that came with their conversation felt more like a breath held in a diver’s lungs. Waiting to be expelled, for someone to surface. Adrien didn’t know if he wanted to be the one to break first.

“You’re right,” he sighed, almost a chuckle. “When did...you kiss him?”

Marinette sighed this time, twisting on her side to face him fully. “A long...long time ago. Why do you wanna know?”

Adrien shrugged, trying to control his breathing. “Just...didn’t think he was your type, is all. Have you kissed him again, ever since?”

Marinette pursed her lips. “No. It was a one-time thing. Didn’t really mean anything, and he doesn’t even remember it happened.” 

Adrien frowned at that. He knows, with uncomfortable certainty, that if Marinette ever kissed him in any way, he’d never be able to forget it.

“What makes you say that?” he retorted. 

Marinette rolled her eyes, her gaze unfocused. “Just a feeling. He’s probably not the type to dwell on some random girl that happened to kiss him over two years ago.”

“You’re not some random girl!” Adrien exclaimed, before realizing that his friends were definitely trying to sleep. A quick glance behind him found Nino and Alya still dead to the world, the former being spooned by the latter. Turning back to Marinette, he was greeted with a wide-eyed expression, and her familiar blush.

“You’re not some random girl, Marinette,” he reiterated at a much lower decibel, now pouting. 

The girl blinked, before shaking her head. “To you maybe, Adrien, seeing as we’re friends now.”

“Best friends,” Adrien corrected childishly. “I don’t invite just anyone to sweet sixteen slumber parties.”

Marinette stifled a giggle at that, nodding. “Right. Best friends. But I’m not Chat Noir’s best friend. I’m just another civilian in a really big city.”

Adrien’s frown deepened. “You’re more than that, though! You’ve helped him and Ladybug so many times, like, personally! I know for a fact that some of your ideas saved our lives! Sure, Ladybug and Chat Noir are Paris’ saviors, but without you I know they’d have been screwed on more than one occasion.”

Marinette pouted. “Adrien…”

“No,” the blonde huffed. “Why do you think he wouldn’t remember?”

Marinette opened her mouth to answer, before shutting it. “Just a feeling. It’s not a big deal, Adrien. I’m not losing sleep over it, trust me.”

“But—”

“I’m tired,” the raven-haired girl interjected, yawning loudly. Though she seemed to be playing it up for exaggeration, Adrien could see how tired she really was. “We can talk about this tomorrow. Or, later today, I guess.”

“Like you’ll let me,” Adrien muttered fondly, his face relaxing until he was only slightly still pouting.

Marinette fake snored, eliciting a stifled giggle from the blonde. Both of them tugged their respective blankets tighter around them, eyelids slowing with each heavy blink.

“We’re not done with this conversation, Mari,” Adrien grumbled, unintentionally repeating the phrase a second time that night. He heard her chuckle, his eyes refusing to open again. 

“G’night, Adrien,” was the last thing he heard, before sleep took him.

~.~

He didn’t see Ladybug again until that Sunday.

Saturday was hectic between saying goodbye to his friends in the morning, to sleeping off his sugar-induced hangover. Nathalie didn’t say a word to him when he turned up for breakfast at one in the afternoon, looking messed up in a way he would never allow his father to see him. She silently slid him a neatly wrapped package, giving him a quick hug and an even more quickly muttered “happy birthday, Adrien.”

It was a gift certificate to his favorite book store, with a list of manga recommendations written in Nathalie’s proper, prim handwriting. Adrien set it on his desk, pinning the list next to his monitor. Then, he turned to pester his kwami for the rest of the day, begging him to give him any information on Marinette’s little confession the night before.

To Adrien’s chagrined expectation, Plagg was locklipped about anything that “may or may not have happened, pal!”

Sunday was taken by Chloe, who dragged him all over Paris to celebrate his belated birthday. Adrien thought she could’ve been a little less obvious with the paparazzi that “somehow managed to find them” at every location they went to that day. He anticipated it, though, and thankfully made sure to clean up for the tabloid shots.

Although he was exhausted from Chloe’s antics, the pure excitement he was running on managed to lift his spirits enough to swing across Paris with a little more pep than normal. He hadn’t seen his lady since she surprised him with a last minute cake and impromptu birthday celebration. The image of her smile, illuminated by the stars from above and the single candle between them, had been seared into his brain since Friday morning.

If he wasn’t out of breath from pogo vaulting across Paris, he’d be whistling as he dropped next to Ladybug on the familiar Parisian monument.

“Fancy seeing you here,” the superhero said, not turning. “How was your weekend?”

“Well, now it’s paw-rfect,” the black-clad boy flirted, dropping to sit next to his partner. “But it was pretty great before this too.”

Ladybug smiled at that, eyes focused on the setting sun before them. “That’s good. I’m glad you had a nice birthday, _minou_.”

Chat Noir scoffed. “I’m no longer a _minou_ , bugaboo. I’m sixteen—an adult in both cat and human years!”

Ladybug laughed at that outright, ignoring the boy’s exaggerated pout to poke him in the side. Chat jerked, retaliating by jabbing his claws into her side, to which she didn’t even react.

“Witch,” he whispered loudly, yelping at the flick Ladybug landed against his earlobe. “Me-ouch! I take it back, you’re a _villain_. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was an akuma hiding in your yoyo.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes, huffing. “So dramatic. I would’ve thought you might mellow out with age, but it seems you work like wine, kitty.”

Chat smirked. “Oh, do I get better with age, my lady?”

It was Ladybug’s turn to scoff. “More like more potent in cat puns.”

“Many would say that’s a perk,” Chat sniffed, turning to stare at her profile. Her eyes shone in the dimming sunlight, appearing almost aqua instead of her regular robin’s egg blue.

Ladybug chuckled, blinking slow. “I never said it wasn’t…”

Chat laid a hand over his heart, leaning into her. “Awe, bugaboo! You’re gonna make me blush.”

“Didn’t think the shameless stray had it in him to still be bashful,” the superhero retorted, finally turning to her partner with a smirk. 

Chat chuckled, leaning back casually. “With you around, my lady? I’m paw-sitively tickled pink.”

Ladybug snorted. “I don’t think you’re using that phrase correctly, Chaton.”

Chat stuck his tongue out at her, childishly blowing a raspberry at her exasperated expression. That earned him another flick on the ear, though this time he knew he deserved the admonishment.

“How about you, buginette?” he asked after a moment. “D’you have a nice weekend?”

Chat Noir thinks he’ll remember the day as the first time he’d seen Ladybug flush profusely. She looked lovely, bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun, face aflame with whatever memories she’d made the past few days.

“You could say that,” she said evenly, looking away from his expectant gaze.

“Ohoho,” Chat retorted, leaning closer. “Looks like it was a little bit better than just _nice_!”

The polka-dotted superhero shot him a sharp look, but her smile seemed to ease wider. “Shut up, you mangy cat. I got to hang out with friends, is all.”

“Just friends?” Chat teased, wiggling his eyebrows. “Didn’t know you blushed at just friends, my lady. How come you don’t blush at me?”

Ladybug shoved him, ignoring his laughter. “Stop teasing me, Chat Noir. I was just...remembering things.”

“Ooh,” the blonde cooed, swinging back to press against his partner’s side. “Do share with the class, please?”

Ladybug huffed, shaking your head. “Not if you’re going to be an ass about it.”

“I’m a cat, in case you forgot, bugaboo,” Chat Noir retorted, gesturing to the bell, and the ears, and the belt-tail, and his general feline appearance.

“You know what I mean,” she said, rolling her eyes. 

“What were you remembering?” Chat pressed, not wanting to get distracted. What had his lady blushing at just the memory?

Ladybug hummed, turning an intent gaze on her companion. Under her heavy gaze it was his turn to blush, not anticipating the weight of her poignant stare. She was looking at him and looking through him, like she was seeing past the image of him lounging next to her on a beam on the Eiffel Tower. Who could she see in his deep, green eyes? If she looked hard enough, if she knew his alter ego, would she be able to parse apart the model from the rogue hero from the sixteen-year-old boy absolutely in love with her?

“You have to promise me you won’t be weird about it,” Ladybug finally said, pursing her lips.

That broke Chat out of his reverie. “What?”

“The thing I was remembering,” Ladybug reiterated. “It’s something I didn’t think I was going to tell you about, ever, but...I don’t know. I kind of want to, now.”

Chat frowned, sitting up straight. “Is it bad?”

“No! At least, I don’t think it is.”

“Am I going to be mad?” he asked, pulling his knees up to his chest. “I don’t think I could really be mad at you, though.”

“I mean…” Ladybug trailed off, tilting her head to the side. “I hope not? It’s just something that happened a few years ago, that I didn’t see any point of telling you.”

“Then why are you telling me now?” Chat asked.

Ladybug paused, sucking in a breath and exhaling it slowly. “I...you deserve to know,” she said finally, her voice unbearably soft. “It’s not a big deal, really. But I shouldn’t have kept it from you this long, and this weekend has made me realize that maybe it wasn’t something I should have kept to myself.”

“You’re kinda scaring me a little bit, bugaboo,” Chat chuckled, hoping he played off how nervous he felt. She kept telling him it wasn’t a big deal, but her placation was only deepening his worries. He could hear his heart beating fast, under all the swirling of his thoughts.

“Don’t be a scaredy-cat,” she retorted, reaching out to grab his hand. “I’m serious—it’s just something I didn’t tell you at the time because I didn’t know how you would react then. Which is on me, since it took me so long to _truly_ trust you. But I do, and I realize that now.”

“What happened?”

Ladybug squeezed his fingers, averting her gaze to his hand clasped between hers. “Do you remember Valentine's day a couple of years ago, when Ki—uh, that kid got akumatized because of Mayor Bourgeois’ daughter?”

Chat frowned, nodding. “Yeah. We called him Dark Cupid, right? He had the arrows that brainwashed people?”

“Yeah,” Ladybug sighed, looking to the sun. The last rays were peaking over the Seine, painting Paris the most beautiful rosy hue. “You got hit, too.”

“Yeah,” Chat said, shuddering. “That was _weird_ . I don’t even remember a thing in between getting hit and then you _literally throwing me_ at—uh, Dark Cupid.”

He doesn’t mention that that was also the day he was going to confess his love to her, for real. It was the first and only time he really knew he was going to tell her, before the akuma ruined his plans by brainwashing him. That was also the day he mysteriously received an anonymous response to his love letter to Ladybug, even though he thought he had thrown it away. 

_I see you and ask, for myself, your thoughts and dreams...Together, for eternity._

_My heart is yours._

He knew the little ladybug that flew across the note was probably a coincidence—had even asked the superhero herself at a later date if she could communicate with the polka-dotted insects (she could not, in fact, though he always felt a particular kinship to the stray cats he saw littering Paris). But that didn’t stop him from saving that note, pressed in between the pages of his mother’s journal, a combination of all the things he held dearest.

“I just know that we were fighting,” Chat continued, “before you snapped me out of it.”

Ladybug nodded, humming. “Yeah. Um, about that…”

Chat Noir has seen his partner in the direst of situations. Over the years, they’ve gotten used to uncomfortable scenarios and finessing sticky situations, even gone somewhat immune to the incredulity of their lives as superheroes. But Ladybug, looking _shy_ and _bashful_?! Chat had either not seen this sight in a long time, or never at all.

“Well, we were studying fairy tales in class at my school that day,” Ladybug starts, gaze still averted. Chat’s ears tingle at that, a hazy memory of Madame Bustier droning on about true love that he tuned out in favor of perfecting his poem for his partner. “And my prof—she said that love conquers all: fear, pain, hatred...”

The superhero shifted in place, turning to face him completely. Where her blue eyes had bounced between the rooftops and their intertwined hands, they were suddenly fixed on his. He knew that the green scleras Plagg gave him when transformed only enhanced his vision in the dark, but he swore he could see all the shades of blue in existence. He knew cats couldn’t even see as many colors as regular humans could, but it was as if a new spectrum was born in her eyes, privy only to him and his lovestruck soul.

“When you were hit with that arrow—that was meant for me,” she huffed, a fierceness taking over her soft features as she stared him down. “You always throw yourself in harm’s way to save me, even though we’re supposed to be partners.”

“My lady—”

“No!” she exclaimed, fingers tightening on his. “You—you always do that! Right from the start, and even now. And I...never know what to do about it.”

Chat frowned, not knowing what to say. If she was going to admonish him for putting his life on the line for her, he would take it. Even if he wasn’t madly in love with the girl, she was the only one who would be able to save them, when push comes to shove. Chat has lived enough of a life to understand that violence and destruction couldn’t ever fix things. Ladybug, a beacon of light and hope—of _luck_ —could never be defeated. Paris would be safe, as long as she was. And Chat would make sure she always was.

“I panicked,” Ladybug confessed, “that day. I didn’t know how to defeat the akuma without you, and all the things Madame Bu—uh, my prof said about love was ringing in my head, and the Valentine’s day stuff…”

She was playing with his fingers absently, a nervous tick she didn’t even realize she was doing, but was giving him heart palpitations alike.

“It’s probably because my prof assigned us Sleeping Beauty, but I had the _brilliant_ idea that a true love’s kiss would break whatever spell the akuma had put on you,” Ladybug said all at once, blinking quickly. The sun had set, and the city was bright, bringing to life Paris’ unofficial title as the city of lights. And even more lovely was the bright rouge of her cheeks, blending seamlessly into her bright red mask.

“And lo and behold, it actually worked?” she chuckled nervously. “Anyway, that was what I had to say. Two Valentine’s ago, I kissed you to un-brainwash you, and I never told you because I didn’t want you to know I gave you my first kiss.”

That snapped Chat Noir out of his reverie.

“Y-your...first kiss?” he stuttered.

Ladybug shrugged, turning away again. “Yeah. Like I said, it’s not a big deal. It was for the good of Paris, and you weren’t even lucid for it, or anything. Which, sorry for kissing you without your consent, by the way,” she added wincing. “I probably should have tried other things before I resorted to that.”

“N-no!” Chat exclaimed, shooting up. He took a step back, eyes wide as his brain worked in warp speed to connect all the dots that were surfacing. “I—it’s alright. Our first kiss—I don’t even remember? Two years ago…”

He shook his head, trying to reconcile the two images of raven-haired, blue-eyed girls his mind was conjuring. A familiar blush, the same quirked smirk, a matching fire in her aura that drew him near no matter what she was wearing.

Ladybug was also standing up now, an arm outstretched. “Chat? Are you okay?”

He had to know. “M—”

And that was when the first akuma in two weeks decided to show up.

~.~

By the time they safely escorted the akumatized victim to the nearest ER—thanks to how often people got akumatized, the hospitals of Paris were well equipped with free-of-charge self-care services to help victims bounce back from an akumatization—both their miraculous were on their last beeps, forcing them to depart quickly.

“Catch you later, chaton,” Ladybug tossed over her shoulder, swinging off into the night. Chat merely ran into the nearest alleyway, muttering a quick _“Plagg, claws in!”_ once he deemed the coast was clear. 

Adrien’s back hit the wall at the same moment Plagg appeared in front of his face. He was breathing heavily, adrenalin from the fight and the realization warring for focus. Plagg took one look at his ward, deciding that whining for cheese could wait.

“You knew,” the blonde finally said, eyes focusing on the black floating blob. 

“Yeah,” the kwami replied, not even attempting to cover it up.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Adrien asked, his voice dangerously watery. Adrien would not cry. But it didn’t stop the hurt from settling in his chest, knowing his kwami kept such a monumental secret from him for _literal_ _years_.

“It wasn’t my secret to tell,” Plagg replied, his voice oddly calm. “Ladybug chose to not tell you, so who was I to question her.”

“You’re _my_ kwami!”

“But it was _her_ decision to keep it from you,” Plagg retorted, his demeanor unfamiliarly mature. “Look, kid—while us kwami technically give you guys the powers to be invincible heros, you kids are still just kids. And the stupid decisions you guys make, well, I’d be robbing you of moral character if I just told you how to fix all your problems, wouldn’t I? So, yeah. Unless it’s detrimental to one or both of your guys’ lives, I’m letting you two play out whatever dumb games you two wanna play instead of doing the easy thing and just telling each other how you feel.”

Adrien blinked, his face smoothing out from the contorted mess it had been before Plagg’s mini speech. _How_ we _feel…?_

The two had a silent standoff, Adrien frowning and his kwami smirking. The human finally caved, groaning at his kwami’s laughter.

“I hate that you’re actually a wise, powerful being and just choose to be a pain just to annoy me,” Adrien moaned, rubbing his face. The cool metal of his ring served to help ground him from falling back into the turmoil in his brain.

“It’s more fun this way,” the kwami retorted, punctuating it with a wink. “And now that we’re done with that little heart-to-heart, I’m gonna need some of that wonderfully smelly cheese, buddy.”

Adrien grumbled, before digging out the obligatory emergency cheese he always carries on his person, just in case he can’t make it back to his room before de-transforming. 

“Eat quick,” he told his kwami, eyeing the sliver of night sky he could see from the alley he was still situated in. “I have one last stop tonight.”

The kwami grumbled, scarfing down the last bits of camembert. “Yeah, yeah,” Plagg muttered with a mouth full. “I’m just glad the unresolved tension will finally be over.”

“Sh-shut up!” Adrien hissed, blushing for the nth time that night. “ _Plagg, claws out!_ ”

It was second nature for his mind to reroute to the Dupain-Chengs’ patisserie, a favorite haunt of Chat Noir’s. Unlike his civilian-sona, no one would scold the roguish superhero for eating his weight in chocolate croissants, making him a fixture at the family-owned bakery. Ladybug had always turned him down on his offer to pick up some patrol-snacks from the shop, and he’d always brushed it off as her not having a sweet tooth (although he knew for a fact her kwami sustained herself with an unfathomable amount of cookies). But now...he knew better.

Chat landed on the familiar pink terrace, a little sloppier than usual. He didn’t exactly know how to go from there, now that he was literally on her roof. Did he knock?

Luckily, his sloppy landing was loud enough to draw out the object of his—well, affection didn’t seem to encompass the enormity of feelings. First it was the peak of her dark hair, dark enough to reflect the moonlight. Then two blue eyes popped out from beneath her fringe, hair wavy and loose like she just pulled out the twin pigtails she was known for both in and out of the costume. She was shivering slightly as she made her way up to the terrace, her polka-dotted suit and mask swapped for a familiar superhero themed pajama set.

“Ch-chat?” Marinette stuttered, eyeing the black-clad superhero from across the roof. “What are you doing here?”

The black cat waved, his signature smirk in place. Or, he was going for his iconic Chat smirk, but he felt his lips pull into a wry smile instead, bordering on grimace territory.

“Evening, princess,” he answered, noting just how fitting his usual nickname for her was. She looked like she’d walked straight out of one of those fairy tales Madame Bustier had them read that Valentine’s day, all those years ago. “Nice pajamas.”

Marinette blushed, crossing her arms. “Thanks. I found them in the bargain bin at a thrift store, since nobody wanted them.”

Chat hissed playful, raising a hand to his chest. “Me-ouch! The princess has claws!”

The girl merely rolled her eyes, though Chat caught the smallest of smiles on her pink lips. “What are you doing here in the middle of the night, you mangy stray?”

Chat paused, wondering whether it would be worth it to cut their banter short to make an irreversible decision that had a fifty-fifty chance of making or breaking their relationship. Because on the one hand, losing his partner would be a blow that he would never come back from. If Ladybug decided she couldn’t trust him after this, they wouldn’t be able to work as a cohesive unit anymore, leaving Paris and, potentially, the world vulnerable to Hawkmoth’s mercy. And arguably (to him) more than that, he would lose the light of his life, in both his crime-fighting partner, and one of his closest friends. How would they explain to Nino and Alya, the sudden coldness between them?

But...the other hand held the best possible outcome for this scenario that he couldn’t even have begun to imagine on his own. The amalgamation created in his mind of his partner and his friend could not compare to the reconciliation of his two loves in his heart, finally beating in sync because he didn’t have to feel guilty for blushing at Marinette, or flirting with Ladybug, or loving the other and lying to himself twice over. If soulmates existed, he would blame his horrible luck for seeking out his other half in the most convoluted and confusing way possible. And Plagg, because he deserved it for giving him such a hard time.

“You have to promise me you won’t get mad,” he says finally, an almost echo of her words earlier. Before she set his world ablaze and left him speechless, as she was wont to do.

Marinette frowned, tucking her hair behind her ears. The wind just blew it back into her face and she didn’t bother a second time, which made him want to reach out and do it for her. 

“Chat, what are you talking about?” she asked, a whispered demand. “You sound...weird.”

“A long list of fanfiction has told me I sound sexy as hell,” the superhero retorted, stepping towards her. She was still a terrace’s length away from him, and he wanted her to be closer.

“Of course you’d be the type to read fanfiction about yourself,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Or better yet, write your own, you narcissist.”

Chat chuckled, stopping a foot away from her. “Nah. I don’t have the time for that. Just have to shower my talented fans with appreciation to make up for it.”

“Woe is you,” she retorted, her body visibly relaxing at their familiar teasing. 

Chat hummed, silently disagreeing. He thinks there hasn’t been a day since he met her—and isn’t it funny that even that date applies to both—that he’s truly been sad. If someone had told him three years ago that a girl with fierce eyes and the kindest smile would become his entire world and leave no room for the loneliness that pervaded every facet of his being...he might have laughed, had he been less chivalrous. 

“Why would I be mad?” Marinette asked, pulling them back into their original conversation. “What did you do?”

Chat chuckled nervously, shaking his head and focusing on their feet. God, how was she able to look him in the eyes when she told him the truth? 

“I haven’t done anything,” he said, “yet.”

Her frown deepened, and she grabbed his left hand, squeezing it comfortingly between both of hers. “Then why would I be mad?”

Chat shook his head, stepping back and gently releasing his hand from her hold. “Just know,” he started, breath hitching embarrassingly, “that technically I’m not breaking any rules this way.”

It only took her a moment to understand what he meant—she definitely was the intelligent one of the two of them—but it was all that he needed.

“Wait, Chat—!”

_“Plagg, claws out!”_

And Chat has de-transformed hundreds of times over the years, but it felt like time was passing through sand this time, as his kwami released the transformation and the slow creep of leather faded into his regular cotton ensemble.

Marinette gasped as Adrien opened his eyes, the green of Chat’s sclera reflected in those familiar irises.

“Hey, Marinette,” Adrien said, awkwardly waving.

She wasn’t moving. She didn’t even look like she was breathing. The only indication of life was the quick blinking of those icy blue eyes, and the drop of her jaw. Marinette could’ve given Munch’s The Scream a run for its money.

“You got any cheese, Marinette?” Plagg asked, breaking the standoff between the two teens.

“Plagg!” Adrien exasperated attempting to shove the kwami back into his shirt where he normally remained when Adrien wasn’t alone. “Shut up, you just had a huge block before we got here!”

“Yeah, but who knows when you’re gonna give me some more!” the kwami complained, evading the blonde’s attempts. “Ladybugs have always been nicer to me and if I gotta watch you two make moony eyes at each other in _and_ outta the costume from now on, I think I deserve some compensation for it—preferably in the form of the smelliest cheese you can procure, rich boy.”

“Plagg,” an unfamiliar female voice sighed. “Leave them alone. I’ll share some of my cookies with you. Give these two some privacy.”

The voice came from a red blob now hovering over Marinette’s shoulder. Adrien couldn’t quite make out details in the dark, now that he didn’t have his Chat Noir night vision, but he could picture a kwami like Plagg, probably sweet just like the cookies she craved.

“Nice to officially meet you, Adrien,” the red kwami said, now hovering in front of his face. She looked different from Plagg, rounder than the prickly cat, and with two antennae. “I’m Tikki, Ladybug’s kwami!”

“Nice to meet you, Tikki,” he replied in awe, offering a finger for her to shake. She did, giggling, before tugging her black-cat counterpart along with her into Marinette’s room.

“You two probably have a lot to talk about,” she said, descending into the room. “We’ll give you some space.”

And then it was just Marinette and Adrien.

Adrien averted his eyes to the Paris skyline with a nervous chuckle. “Heh, so I technically only made that promise to _Ladybug,_ that we’d keep our identities a secret,” Adrien started, fidgeting in place. “So, this isn’t breaking it! Because you didn’t know, when we made that promise, that I knew you were...well, at the time I also actually didn’t know you were—uh...yeah. So anyway, I mean, I know it was an implicit agreement to not tell civilians about our identities, so you can still be mad at me for this...but, like, also not? Because you’re _not_ a random civilian, hehe. 

“And I know that you probably didn’t want to deal with this until after we defeated Hawkmoth,” Adrien exclaimed, trying to make cohesive sense of his rambling. “But I couldn’t spend a moment longer knowing what I knew and keeping it from you!” The blonde blinked rapidly, looking away again from her piercing gaze. “So, if you just want to pretend tonight never happened...I’ll be okay with that. I just didn’t like the thought of knowing your secret without you knowing mine.”

Adrien was tempted to keep talking, the sudden word vomit almost impossible to stop. He probably would’ve too, if Marinette hadn’t taken a step forward. The moment she moved his mouth snapped shut, the audible click of his jaw echoing over the gentle night breeze. She didn’t stop until she was right in front of him, close enough that he didn’t need to touch her to feel her presence. In all their years as partners, they’d gotten very comfortable with each other: first out of necessity, and then from easy camaraderie. 

But it was different this time. They weren’t hiding behind familiar masks, separated by layers of magic-infused suits. 

This wasn’t Ladybug and Chat Noir. It was Marinette and Adrien: classmates, friends, and quite possibly the most important people in each other’s lives. 

Adrien eyed her nervously. Marinette wasn’t looking at him, though. Gently, like she’d done so many times before, she took his hand to hold in between hers. The sensation was warmer, no longer subdued by his leather gloves or her red suit, but the weight was familiar. She’d held his hand, comforted him, been there for him so many times over the years, and this felt no different. 

“It’s you,” she whispered, in a reverie of her own. She hadn’t looked up from their clasped hands, yet. “It’s...you.”

“Sorry,” Adrien whispered back, not knowing what else to say.

At that Marinette’s head snapped up. Her furious gaze locked on his timid one.

“Shut up,” she hissed, a frown overtaking her delicate features. “Just...shut up. Don’t you dare apologize—especially when I know you aren’t sorry for doing this!”

Adrien chuckled at the familiar scolding tone. How could he have missed this, when it was _so_ _obvious_?

“I’m not,” he agreed, sheepishly. “But I’m sorry if I wasn’t—if I’m not who you wanted me to be. I know I couldn’t have asked for a better partner and friend and...I know I have no regrets with this. But I hope that—”

Marinette cut him off in the last way he thought possible: pushing onto her toes, grabbing him by his bewildered face, and pressing her lips to his.

Adrien froze. He felt her hands shaking against his face, her cool fingers against his heated blush, the fluttering of her long eyelashes against his skin. And just before she started to pull away, a crescendo passed over him as he fell into the kiss. His hands moved from where they hovered awkwardly at his sides to hold her waist, keeping her steady against the rooftop wind, balanced on her toes. His eyes had already closed upon impact, but he leaned in just enough into her that the awkward angle of their lips slotted into nothing short of perfection. She was warm and soft and everything that he hoped for, but nothing like he imagined.

Because how was he—a boy stupidly in love with the most amazing girl in the world—supposed to fathom that this could have ever been a reality?

Marinette pulled away first, but she didn’t go far. Her hands had moved from his face to tangling in his hair, and his fingers were clenched at the hem of her dark gray pajama shirt. She stayed on her toes, trusting him to hold her up, opening her eyes slowly. There wasn’t even an inch between their noses, and the heat of both their flushed faces mingled.

“How could you _ever_ ,” she intoned, lips twitching upwards, “think that I wouldn’t be happy to meet you?”

Adrien frowned slightly. “But the promise—”

“—is something I stand by making,” she cut him off, her nails scratching absently at the nape of his neck. “For both our protection and for the people in our lives. And because I used to worry...that I wouldn’t live up to any expectations you had.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry,” she chuckled, tapping him on the nose. “I know better now. I’m very confident in both of our abilities to kick ass, believe me.”

Adrien hummed, his frown softening. “So, you’re not mad?”

Marinette laughed, tossing her head back and baring her throat to the heavens. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you would ask me that!”

Adrien shook her slightly, causing her to devolve even further. “Stop laughing,” he complained, though he was laughing now too. “I’m serious! Are you not even surprised? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“Of course I’m surprised,” she retorted, dropping to her feet. She was looking up at him now, the inches he had on her now very apparent. “Never in a million years would I have thought the Agreste Fashion’s teen heartthrob model would be the infamous _Chat Noir_.”

The blonde pouted at that, though he understood. His public personas in and out of the suit were very, _very_ different from one another, even somewhat on purpose. His lack of rebellious nature burst forth in the form of cat puns, outrageous flirting, and a roguish charm when he donned the black mask. Still...he had hoped she would’ve somehow seen through it.

“But Chat Noir,” she continued, pulling herself nose-to-nose with the model, “turning out to be one of my best friends, the guy I’ve been crushing on for quite literally forever—”

“Excuse me—?!”

“—and the person I trust to have my back the most, in or out of the suit,” Marinette continued, flicking him playfully for his interruption. “Well, it’s not at all surprising.”

Adrien felt his chest tighten at her words. “Not even a little bit?” he whispered, digging his digits deeper into the fabric of her shirt.

Marinette tilted her head, humming. “Well, I wouldn’t have ever guessed it on my own,” she teased, to which he retaliated by poking her sides, only to remember both Ladybug and Marinette Dupain-Cheng were unfortunately immune to tickling. “But I can’t say I’d want it any other way.”

“And the kiss?” he asked, mostly playful but also worried. “Who was that for?”

Marinette scoffed. “It was for the stupid boy I’ve been in stupid love with and makes my heart do stupid things all the damn time.”

Adrien chuckled, leaning to press his forehead against hers. “Ditto.”

Marinette took revenge this time by tickling him back, to which he let out a very _manly_ yelp. “Shut up,” she said again, though she was smiling wide enough that he knew she couldn’t mean it. “I may have been in love with Adrien Agreste since freshman year—”

“You can’t keep saying that and not expand—”

“—but a part of my heart always belonged to this mangy stray,” she finished, punctuating it by wrapping her arms around his neck. “The last, maybe, six months have been absolute _hell_ , chaton. Kinda relieved I no longer have to worry about which one of you I gotta be in love with.”

“D-ditto,” Adrien replied, unable to comprehend that Ladybug— _Marinette!_ —was so casually admitting she was in love with him. _Him!_

The raven-haired girl giggled, pulling him closer. This time, he knew what to do, and leaned in to kiss the love of his life.

~.~

Adrien left very late that night, after sharing a few more kisses with _Marinette Dupain-Cheng._ He realized, on his walk to school the next morning, that they never discussed what exactly they were to one another. 

They both confessed being in love with the other—in and out of the suits—for a long time. Adrien was sure they were, uh, boyfriend and girlfriend, now (for lack of better term). More than that, he was just grateful that this revelation didn’t seem like it would affect their chemistry as partners, seeing as that would affect many more people than just themselves. Adrien was confident in his relationship with Marinette and Ladybug. He just didn’t know how she’d want them to operate, from now on. Would she be okay dating a world-famous model? Would she prefer they not break the internet by going public as an official superhero couple?

All those thoughts left his head as he caught sight of her standing next to Alya and Nino on the front steps of Francçois Dupont High School. As if she could feel his gaze, she turned to meet his eyes, smiling sweetly and waving. That drew the other two’s attention, Nino shouting an amicable, “ _hey man!_ ” as he made his way to them.

Marinette met him halfway, greeting him—to both his and everyone else’s shock—with a firm kiss on the lips. Pulling back, she winked at him, before taking his hand and dragging him to where both their bespectacled friends stood with dropped jaws. Alya unfroze first, screaming and shaking her hapless boyfriend, generally drawing all attention to the group.

“C’mon,” Marinette said, tugging Adrien past them. “We’re gonna be late for class.”

Alya was still shouting profanities at Marinette—“how dare you fucking keep _two_ secret boyfriends from me?!” “I don’t think Chat counts, babe”—and Adrien could hear Chloe’s shrill pitch from somewhere behind them.

“You busy this afternoon?” Marinette asked as they entered the courtyard. Adrien could see peoples heads turning out of the corner of his eye, but he only had eyes for his girlfriend.

“No,” he answered immediately. “Why?”

“I was thinking we could go out for icecream. Maybe a movie, too.”

Adrien, who didn’t think it was possible to grin any wider, broke out into laughter. 

“As you wish, my lady.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! comments and kudos brighten my day and feed my soul! if you want to scream at me about fandom hum on twitter at [@redwlwmushroom](https://twitter.com/redwlwmushroom)! have a nice Valentine's Day, y'all!


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